


Demolition Lovers

by danceinstylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Lots of Angst, M/M, and influenced by mcr songs in general, based off the song demolition lovers by my chemical romance, i wrote this during a very angsty time i don't even know, really twisted, um yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:59:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceinstylinson/pseuds/danceinstylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were twisted, sick of hiding, sick of being controlled. And so they had a plan, a plan to be free. People had to pay after all. Their plan might’ve been flawed, but they knew, no matter what, they would go down together</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demolition Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> Just transferring my fics from tumblr onto here. This is so angsty and twisted..don't even ask i wrote this over a year ago man...it was a very angsty time lol ..Again you can also find me at danceinstylinson.tumblr.com

_Hand in mine, into your icy blues_

_And then I’d say to you we could take to the highway_

_With this trunk of ammunition too_

_I’d end my days with you in a hail of bullets._  

Their hands were still stained red as they ran, hand in hand, escaping into the night. Another kill to add to the list. In the beginning, no one had suspected them, but as more and more members of their management team turned up dead, suspicions began to fly. No longer were they the lovable heartthrob popstars. No, they were feared. Their names were infamous, headlining on every paper, on every news outlet.  

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles: Wanted. Murderers. Thieves. Criminals. The media had dubbed them a name of their own, the Demolition Lovers.  

It was well known by now that the two ex-popstars were in an romantic relationship. They had both made sure that fact was  _very_  known. It was no secret now that they were behind the murders, they were wanted criminals, and they knew they were just bidding their time now, bidding their time until they were caught, or killed, or both.  

And so they had fun. They left little messages after each kill. Sometimes cute pictures of the two of them, which were always very out of place over a cold corpse. The media released every new message left by the lovers, and slowly, a story was being told, a story of pain and suffering and anguish and betrayal. A story of love and death and risks.  _Their_  story.  

_You tried to hide us, you tried to suffocate us. Snuff us out like a flame. But we were stronger. Now look who’s the one who’s been snuffed out. ––L+H_  

That one had been one of the first messages, just a few months previous when the killings had begun. A little note slipped into their manager’s pocket.  

_Take your contract and burn in hell you dumb whore. ––H_  

A small slip of paper crumpled into Eleanor’s limp hand. Louis hadn’t signed the note, instead opting to leave a separate message.  

_BEARD_

 Just one word, carved into her arm with the same knife they had used to stabbed the life out of her. 

 Louis had been particularly satisfied with that one, watching in fascination as the life left her eyes and as the blood pooled around her skinny little frame. She looked so fake laying there. Like she was made of plastic. And maybe she was, because she had never had a heart anyway. He had hated her since the very beginning. Hated everything from her long legs that were far too thin to her fake smile and cold eyes. She was always getting in the way, always ruining everything. All he wanted was Harry, but instead he was forced to spend time with  _her_. And she wasn’t nice. She always said horrible things about Harry. Making fun of  _Harry_. Harry who was his whole world. He didn’t understand how she could have been shocked when they turned up to kill her. She had to have known, after everything she’d done, that her turn would eventually come. 

 No one was safe. Everyone had to pay. Because Louis and Harry were in  _love_ , and the world had pretended to ignore them. 

 Well they wouldn’t ignore them now. The world was listening to them now, and they had a lot to say. 

 They had just executed their biggest kill yet. How they had gotten away with it they’d never know. You’d think Simon Cowell would have tighter security, especially considering the fact that two of his ex-artists were on a murderous rampage. It had all been too simple really. They slipped into his hotel room completely unnoticed. It had been messy. Simon had tried to fight. Harry thought it was cute. They always tried begging for mercy. They always tried pleading for forgiveness. But they were undeserving of Harry and Louis’s mercy. They had made them suffer. And now it was all coming back around to bite them in the ass. 

  _You brought us together, but then you let them tear us apart. You’re just as much to blame. ––L+H_

 They were running now though. Running because the police would soon arrive. Their hands were still stained red with the blood of their past mentor, and they ran and ran down the streets of London, smiles plastered on their faces, and hearts a little lighter as another weight was lifted from their chests. 

 “I love you,” Harry said roughly, pulling Louis into a kiss as they slowed in an alley way. He backed Louis up against a brick wall, kissing hungrily, lips bruising, and biting down hard until they both tasted blood. 

 “And I love you,” Louis said quietly, licking his bottom lip and tasting the coppery tang of his own blood. 

 “We did good.  _You_  did good,” Harry said, flinging an arm over the smaller boy’s shoulder. 

 Louis smiled at Harry, eyes lighting up the way they only did for him. “Can we celebrate now?” 

 “Hell yes,” Harry breathed, before tugging Louis through a door on the side of one of the building in the alley. 

 They stepped into a small apartment, that was, as far as the rest of the world was concerned, abandoned. For the time being it served as the Demolition Lovers’ hideout. It wasn’t a home though, they weren’t there for a long term stay. In fact, they had barely lived there a week. They never stayed in one place for too long. It was too risky. 

 Harry lit a cigaret and strolled over to the bare mattress off to the side of the tiny room. “A toast,” he said, raising a bottle, “to the Demolition Lovers.” Harry’s voice was mocking, and sinister, and Louis chuckled as he climbed into bed beside his boyfriend, curling into his side and plucking the cigaret from his lips and taking a drag for himself. 

 “Mhmm,” Harry groaned, wrapping his arms tightly around Louis’s waist. “You look so sexy when you smoke like that.” 

 Louis puffed out a perfect smoke ring before laughing and letting his head fall against Harry’s shoulder. He liked it when they were like this, just the two of them, alone at night when everything was quiet, calm, when the world was out looking for them but they were safely tucked away, hidden somewhere they’d never be found. Moments like these made it all worth it. They both knew it was only a matter of time….but they were going straight to the end together.  

Harry put the cigaret out and began kissing down Louis’s neck, sucking bruises to his tanned skin. Louis lifted himself off the bed quickly discarding of his and Harry’s shirts. “Can I tonight?” Harry asked softly, because he was only ever gentle with Louis.  

“Mhmm,” Louis mumbled, relinquishing control for the night.  

See Harry was the one in control when it came to most everything else, but with sex he let Louis control him, the only time he ever allowed himself to be controlled. It was a testament to how much he loved and trusted Louis. But every so often, especially after a kill, Harry would seek control over Louis.   

They stripped until they were just skin against skin, bodies slick with sweat, sliding against each other desperately, aching to be closer, as close as possible. Their breath tasted like cigarets and cheep champagne, and their heads were spinning, dizzy from just breathing.  

Harry thrusted into Louis desperate to make him scream, desperate to feel Louis around him, desperate to fly. All he could see when he shut his eyes was blood, pools of blood, a thousand bodies piled up, cold, lifeless corpses. They haunted him. He loved and hated them at the same time. He didn’t want to think about those demons. All he wanted was Louis. It was all he had ever wanted. It was the reason they were doing all of this in the first place. They were doing it for each other. They were doing it to be free. But somewhere along the line they lost all chances of freedom. They were trapped worse than before, they would never be free.  

And maybe a part of Harry knew that the end was looming near. Maybe that’s why he kissed extra hard, and thrusted faster, and held onto Louis tighter afterwards. “You’re mine forever,” he whispered as they lay in complete darkness.  

“And you’re mine,” Louis whispered back, before curling up in Harry’s strong arms.  

Louis fell asleep quickly, Louis never had trouble falling asleep. But Harry stayed up, eyes wide, staring blindly at the ceiling he could not see. There was a panic pumping through his veins, they had killed everyone now, everyone who had stood between them, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t _feel_  like enough. Harry knew they weren’t going to make it any longer, they were finished. Simon was dead and there was no way they would get away with it now.  

But Harry wasn’t ready to surrender.  

This had all been Harry, Harry had been the mastermind behind it all, Harry had easily roped Louis into the scheme. See Harry wasn’t at all like everyone thought him to be. He was never the ‘flirt’ he was never the easy going, charming guy that the girls made him out to be. He was quiet, reserved, contemplative. He was passionate and intense. He loved fiercely, almost to the point of obsession, and he was possessive. He hated secrets and lies, and most of all he hated being  _controlled_.  

And so when the twisted idea was planted in his head, he did nothing but let it grow. He nurtured the idea, fed it, fueled it. The plan began forming ages before he ever confided in Louis about it. A mass murder of everyone in their management team. Men in suits covered in blood. Mangled bodies cut up in pieces. It were these thoughts that kept him up at night with a smile on his face. Something was seriously wrong inside his head, he’d known that for a while, but he didn’t resent it. He embraced the fatal flaw, learned to love his twisted mind. It made him different, unique even. He wasn’t some pretty boy popstar. He was bad, he was insane, psychotic. He didn’t want girls throwing themselves at him. He wanted them to run away in fear. Harry loved it all, the thrill of a kill, the rush he got from breaking the rules and just being  _bad_. 

He wasn’t ready to get caught, he wasn’t ready for it all to end.  

And most of all, he wasn’t ready to leave Louis.  

***

Maybe the drugs didn’t help.  

Maybe mixing them all together and then downing a glass of liquor didn’t help either.  

But it sure felt good.  

They were in a new hiding place just outside of London and Simon Cowell had been dead for thirty-eight hours now. There was a mass hunt for Louis and Harry at this point, but they were safely tucked away, enjoying their chemical bliss.  

They made love again, and for some reason it felt all too bittersweet. Louis was in control this time, and Harry vulnerable beneath him, crying out and whimpering the way he only ever did for Louis. Their world was spinning and crumbling down around them. Time was running out, the hands on the clock were spinning, faster and faster until there were no hands at all. And then the walls were bleeding. Oozing with the blood of a thousand men. Everything was on fire, everything was covered in blood. Their lives were slipping away. Slowly they were both becoming transparent.  

Sirens were going off all over London. Reporters were speaking rapidly into their microphones. Only three people in the world knew where Louis and Harry were. Three people who, despite everything, were still trusted.  

Except they had cracked.  

Unbeknownst to the lovers, their three best friends had just sold them over to the police. And somehow Harry knew. Somehow he could feel it in his bones, because he quickly pushed himself off their makeshift bed, eyes wild as he whirled around to face his only love.  

“Quick,” he breathed. “Louis, we have to leave, now.”  

Louis was slow to react, he didn’t understand. The drugs effected him worse than Harry, Harry could handle them better, but Louis always drifted away, so far away. 

 “Louis,” Harry snapped, shaking him forcefully. “Please, get dressed, we have to go!”  

“I don’t want to,” Louis pouted, refusing to move. “I want to stay with you.”  

“You will, you’ll be with me the whole time. But we have to get moving. Something’s––something’s not right.”  

Harry began helping Louis into his clothes, taking care to roll his sleeves, even though there was no time. Then they clasped hands before slipping out into the night and stealing the first car they saw. They were out just as sirens could be heard coming in from the opposite direction.  

_Bloody bastards,_  Harry sneered.  

“They told on us?” Louis asked, big innocent eyes staring up at Harry.  

Harry gripped the steering wheel tighter, willing himself to calm. “Looks like they did,” he said tightly, through clenched teeth.  

“But they were on our side.” Louis looked so upset, so confused. It pained Harry to see him like that, it made him want to hurt anyone and everyone who was responsible for such a pained look to taint Louis’s perfect features.  

“Well now they’re the enemies. They want to keep us apart too. They want to bring us down.”  

“Are we going to kill them?” 

 Harry mulled over the idea for a moment. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to find those selfish bastards and bash their heads in. He wanted to watch them drown in their own blood. But for once rationality stepped in.  

“We don’t have time. It would be too risky.”  

Louis frowned at this, and Harry leaned over the console and kissed the frown away. “When we go down we’ll take everyone with us, okay?” Harry said, hooking his finger under Louis’s chin and looking his straight in the eyes.  

Louis nodded once, and then they both fell silent as they drove on.  

***

It felt like they were driving to the end of the world. Louis fell asleep twice, both their highs wore off, and then the reality settled in, they were never going back. They could never go back to London. Their fates were already sealed off. 

 They were driving to escape, but in reality they were driving to the end.  

It was on their drive that Louis began to think. He was never as twisted as Harry, but he had become infected by the same bug that had claimed the younger boy. Their souls were tainted now, damaged. Louis could never have imagined how his life would pan out. One minute he was on top of the world with his three best friends and the love of his life, all five of them happy, living their crazy dream. The next minute it was just him and Harry, all alone with red hands and bloodshot eyes, running away from crimes he could have never dreamed of committing.  

But as much as it shocked him, as much as he couldn’t believe what they had become, a part of him––a big party of him––loved it all. Over the past few months he had grown to love the blood, the smell of it, the look of it, sometimes even the taste. He had grown to love the rush of adrenaline. He loved the chase, he loved the wickedness and depravity. And he loved the way Harry was after, the way they were always desperate and clingy and rough and greedy with each other. It was all wrong but it all felt so right.  

They saw the sky turn red as the sun dipped away, slipping down into the earth, swallowed by Hell itself until it would be spit back up in the morning. Everything was cast in shadows then, everything looked far more sinister. They were in the middle of the countryside when Harry pulled over, unbuckling his seatbelt and surging forward, kissing Louis full on. He had to let him know, he had to make sure he  _knew_  just how much he meant to him. That this was all for him.  

He was crying before he realized, and then Louis was crying too, and they shook the car with their sobs and their desperate attempts at intimacy. The world was dark, and they were very much alone. Just like their name implied, they had demolished everything. They were barely alive now, just shells of the people they once were. They fed off each other searching for just some glimmers of life, some rays of warmth, but their bodies remained perpetually cold. Harry’s fingers felt frozen as he traced them up Louis’s side. His lips were frosted as they glided against Louis’s. It felt like it was snowing inside the car. And Harry wondered to himself if maybe Hell wasn’t a fiery pit like everyone said. Perhaps it was a frozen tundra where no one could feel a thing.  

The sirens felt so far away. Like a faint ringing in Harry’s ear. He winced when they grew in volume, something like pain shooting through his body. Louis yelped when he heard the noise. He jumped and flinched away from Harry as the whirling lights pierced the pitch black night. Harry’s hands were on the wheel so fast, foot slamming down on the gas as they flew down the winding road that seemed to have no end. The flashing lights and blaring sounds followed them the whole way. Harry’s heart was hammering so hard he swore it was jumping from his chest. Louis’s fingers were on Harry’s thigh, gripping tightly, nails digging in. His bottom lip was sucked in between his teeth, and his blue eyes shone pale and wide as they fled their captors.  

It started raining.  

Big pelting raindrops, hard. So hard they were shattering the glass.  

But it wasn’t water. They were raindrops of lead. A hail storm of bullets rained down upon them, pelting at their car. It should have scared Harry, it should have terrified him. But he was too numb to think or feel anything. He kept driving, even when he felt a raindrop pierce his skin. He had to keep going, he had to for Louis. They were supposed to be free. They were supposed to ride off and find their happily ever after. It was all they’d ever been searching for. He kept driving for Louis, even when the older boy began screaming  bloodcurdling screams.  

“Harry! Harry you’re bleeding! Harry stop! Stop! They’re going to kill us! Harry!  _Harry!_ ”   

There was blood everywhere now. Everything hurt, his lungs were on fire. When he tried to talk to Louis, only a bloody gurgle came out. Louis’s sobs grew louder and more broken. They were screams of utter pain. His blue eyes were swimming with tears, thousands of tears, and Harry’s vision began to spot.  

_NO_ , he growled furiously.  _Don’t die, don’t die on him._  

Louis’s hands covered his face, another round of bullets fired, hitting both boys critically.  The older boy’s hands flew out and interlocked with Harry’s at the last moment.  

The car swerved and Harry’s eyes fell shut. All he saw was blood, blood of a thousand men. He thought of Louis, he thought of their happy ending. At least they’d be together now. He squeezed Louis’s fingers ever so slightly in one final promise, and then his hand went limp and his mind blank, and there was nothing left but a black abyss.  

It was then that everything stopped. The whole world stopped spinning and everything fell away. The car had stopped moving. The rainstorm of bullets ceased. Everything was eery quiet.  

And then––then there was a single breath. Then another. So quiet and small were the breaths, but in the silence they were as loud as the roaring of sirens and screams of murder. Just tiny little breaths piercing the still atmosphere in the car. 

Where two hearts had once beat together, now only one remained. And that was the worst bit of it all. 

 


End file.
